Sex, Lust, and Murder in the Bathrooms of Degrassi
by BeckdamProceeds
Summary: Becky and Adam are the hottest couple at Degrassi. But when a tragedy occurs on school grounds, will these star-crossed lovers manage to stay true to their love?
1. Chapter 1

It was July Seventh, six o'clock in the morning. Adam sloppily flailed his arm and reached the alarm clock on his desk; after a long, hefty ordeal, he rolled from his sheets and hit the floor. He turned onto his backside and blinked into the sunlight pouring from the window. The radiating warmth reminded him of Becky. He smiled sheepishly and then ran a hand through his brown, lengthy hair: it was growing too long, and he knew he needed a haircut, but he figured his trucker hat would conceal it for the time being. He blinked his eyes: they were crusty. He licked his lips and felt how dry they seemed. His body was exhausted. Maybe it was because he had wasted two weeks of his summer at Degrassi's overbearing summer camp. Or maybe it was because the sunlight hitting his face was nothing compared to Becky kissing him all over.

She was in Florida, lifeguarding the turquoise waters as her glorious legs gleamed with beauty. She worked alongside an abundance of tan, attractive boys. Adam had seen pictures of them through Facerange. There was the tall-blonde man who had his arm around Becky during a group picture- thankfully, he was gay. Todd caused Adam's eyebrows to raise, but in the scope of things, Adam knew he was madly in love with Becky, and that she felt the same way. What they had was real love. They were only seventeen, but it was real. They felt the "I want to melt into you" kind of love. He shared his perspective of life with Becky. And sadly, because she was thousands of miles away, he felt exhausted- and terribly sad.

"Adam, you up?" Drew's muffled voice hollered from behind the door.

Adam flinched and, still lying on the floor, said, "I'm getting to that point." When he spoke, his voice sounded strange, as if it didn't match up with the narrating voice in his head. He looked down at his chest and winced: his breasts were thick and noticeable through his shirt. He squeezed his fists together, imagining the boys at Becky's beach running through the sand with their chests bare and naked. Becky LOVED swimming, but he could never enjoy that luxury with her- it revealed too much.

After his morning routine was completed, he hurried down the stairs and grabbed a quick bite to eat. Drew guarded the fridge, chugging the family's carton of milk. "Hey Adam, can I ask you something?" Drew asked, shoving the milk back into the fridge.

"Sure, what is it?" Adam asked. He took a seat at the counter.

"You and Imogen have been working very good together, you know, as counselors. I thought you were supposed to be enemies. Did something happen?" he asked, staring at Adam.

Adam's cheeks instantly turned red. He kept his expression smug, but his eyes inadvertently fluttered around, as if he was hiding something. "Well," he said, "me and Imogen have learned to deal with ourselves. It's not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?" Drew asked. "She's into you! You know she is. Now, think to yourself, what would Becky think?"

Adam looked around the kitchen. He felt self-conscious, and wondered how he could ever manage to get two beautiful girls to fall for him. Drew waited for a response, but as Adam worried over his thoughts, Drew gave up and jingled his car keys in Adam's face; later, the two arrived at Degrassi for another long, hollow day of summer camp.

Becky's hair was soft and long with love. She brushed it graciously as she stood on her patio deck, watching the sun peak over the ocean. It was a beautiful sight, and it was going to be a beautiful day; she pressed her lips into a thin, conflicted line as she thought about Adam and how he couldn't see what she was seeing. She wanted to hold his hand and squeeze it with assurance; she wanted to lean her head on his shoulder and sit with loving silence; and as her eyes narrowed dreamily, she knew she wanted to just full-on make out with him and massage her tongue on his lips. She knew using her body would be the best tool against Imogen. And she knew Adam belonged with her. Nobody else.

"Howdy, Iguanas," Adam announced as he approached his group. Imogen had already arrived, and she was sitting in the corner with the campers. Her ponytails were giggly, and her thick glasses were quirky, no doubt. Her eccentric personality was thought-provoking for Adam. But he was not attracted to her whatsoever.

"What's first on the agenda?" Adam asked, flicking his head to the clipboard that she held against her chest.

Imogen smiled warily and didn't answer. Just as Adam was about to raise questions, two unknown camp counselors walked up to the group. They had green wristbands- the color of the Iguanas. "We're not going to be here today. We're going to go study," Imogen said, hopping up and running to Adam, curling her arm around his arm. "These counselors will fill in for us while we're gone."

"We can't just leave our group! And besides, what do we need to study for?" Adam asked as he turned his head to her head, inches away. Her face smelled like peppermint.

"You'll see!" she said, waving goodbye to the Iguanas. Before Adam could react, she pulled his arm and lead him out of the gym through the side-door. They started out speed-walking through the halls, and then jogging, and finally sprinting. Imogen laughed happily as she ran and guided Adam with his arm, and Adam couldn't help but go along with it.

They ended up outdoors near the greenhouse, where they bent on their knees and heavily panted for air. After a little bit, Imogen stopped and stared at the entrance to the greenhouse for a hell of a time, and this provoked Adam to ask, "What are you staring at?"

She blinked and fell back into reality. "Oh, sorry. I was just looking in there. They say that's where they found the dead guy."

"Oh," Adam nodded understandingly, "you mean Campbell?"

Imogen looked at Adam quickly. "Did you know him?"

Adam shook his head. "No, but I've read articles about him on hockey websites. Nobody knows why he did it. His last tweet only makes it sadder."

Imogen laughed and muttered something about Twitter. By that point, the air was humid, and the sun was so bright it was hurting their eyes. Adam leaned against a tree and folded his arms across his chest. "So, what exactly are we supposed to be studying?" he asked.

"I suppose we could, I don't know, watch a movie?" Imogen asked, watching him carefully.

"That sounds great," Adam said, although he was clearly losing interest.

Imogen whipped out a gun. She loaded it, made the click-noise, and then pointed it at Adam. It was a rifle. His eyes grew wide with disbelief. "Imogen, don't shoot!," he said, lifting his arms and then dropping them to the sides. He watched in horror as she pressed the trigger. I will be shot again, he thought. I will never kiss Becky again.

His eyes were closed. He waited for the pain to come, for death to come- but nothing happened. He slowly opened his eyes and screamed. In front of him, Becky laid on the ground. She had jumped in front of the bullet in order to save Adam. A large, bloody hole was imprinted on her shoulder. Her beautiful body had been shaken by the bullet. He fell to his knees and scooped her up in his arms. He held her there and pressed his cheek against her forehead. "SOMEBODY HELP!" he screamed repeatedly, although not as ridiculously as Liberty when she found J.T.

Imogen blew the smoke on the rifle's tip. She smiled at Adam as he cried in horror.

"How could you do this?" Adam screamed with hatred. Becky's blood poured over his fingers.

"I did it so we can be together. Kinda romantic, don't you think?" Imogen said, nodding her head. Suddenly, a hand appeared on her shoulder.

**To be continued.**


	2. Chapter 2

Becky waited in the garden. Her white dress was glowing, and her skin was milky. Everything about her appearance was beautiful and stunningly pleasing to the eye. Her hand ran across a flurry of rosebushes, and she bit her bottom lip as smiled to herself. Trees of fruit shook violently in the soft wind.

"Becky, is that you?" Adam asked. He blinked his eyes dreamily. He was in a tuxedo, and his hair was cut short. His body felt foreign.

"I've been waiting for you, Adam," she said, shifting her gaze from the ground to his eyes. His heart immediately began to beat five times faster.

"What is this? What's going on?" he asked in a dazed voice. He shifted his legs and felt a strange bulge in his pants.

She refrained from answering his question. She continued smiling brilliantly, not taking her stare away from Adam. "Do you feel very different?" she asked with a hint of excitement.

Adam shrugged quickly. Then, he looked down at his chest. It was flat, and he knew from his easy breathing that he didn't bind his boobs. He jammed his hand into his pocket and felt the center of his legs- lo and behold, he felt the private parts of a man. That's when it all suddenly dawned on him: standing across from him was Becky, the love of his life, and their lives were over, and their eternity had just begun.

"We're in Heaven," Adam whispered.

"We really are," Becky said, nodding and smiling. She walked up to him and slipped her hand into his. Her eyes were confident, but her breath was shaky.

"I don't remember anything. How did I die?" Adam asked, shaking his head and squeezing her hand with assurance.

"Imogen killed us. I took a plane and flew up to Toronto, and then jumped in front of the bullet, saving your life. But I guess she had more bullets in the rifle..." Becky shrugged and then kissed his cheek. "I've been here for a little while. I missed you so much! When you appeared behind those trees, my heart exploded. I knew you would be close behind me. I just wasn't sure when you'd show up. The time in Heaven is strange."

"I bet," Adam said. He didn't know what to say. He was so confused.

"Look, you're probably a little freaked out right now," Becky said, leading him to a different direction of the garden. "But I promise you'll get used to the way things work around here. You should meet Jesus. He's great!"

"I'd love to meet him," Adam said numbly. He was in awe as Becky lead him through the most beautiful garden in the history of mankind. They reached the cliff, and in the distance, they could see the whole Kingdom of Heaven. The sunset in the horizon was plastered in mountains of golden clouds. The grass was fleshy and green. The sculptures of angels were magnificent as they spurted water out of their mouthes.

"Jesus Christ lives in that castle, way over there," she said, pointing down the valley, across a long prairie of little wooden huts. The castle reflected fantastic grandeur.

"I didn't know we have to live in a house," Adam said, looking at the many huts and houses in the Kingdom.

"Of course! Where else would we live?" Becky asked, as if it was the most obvious thing to know. "I live with three roommates from Florida, but we can head into the Kingdom and request a private residence here in the Garden. I knew you would love the Garden."

"It's very pretty," Adam said, turning around and getting another good look at everything.

"Well," Becky said, leaning her head onto his shoulder. "It's your first night here. I've missed you terribly! What should we do to celebrate?"

"Hmm," Adam said, pondering over the endless possibilities in his mind. "Can you fly in Heaven?"

"Of course you can," Becky said, grinning largely. She took a step back and held her hand out to Adam. "Would you like a ride, good man?"

"I would definitely love one," he said, smiling and taking her hand graciously.

They floated up.

To be continued. 


	3. Chapter 3

Imogen was wearing an old flannel shirt. Her eyes were dark and alert, but her lips were dry. She looked tired.

"Are you ready?" Drew asked. He was leaning against the doorway of the prep-room, which was a small, air-conditioned sitting room in the rear side of Toronto's largest court house. Imogen's trial was set for the evening, and the entire continent of North America would be tuning in to watch. Questions of the curious were burning through headlines: why did this girl kill the transgender kid and his girlfriend? What was the motive?

Following the events of Degrassi's second fatal shooting, Imogen had been maimed, and her injuries, received by a mob of gay rights activists, were severe. After the mob had taken their anger on her, the riot-police arrived, tamed the crowd, and arrested Imogen. She had spent half a year in a prison, and another six months on crutches, and though the accident had occurred during the summer, her healthy legs had broken in five places and were pitifully scarred. They still pained her so severely that she had become an aspirin addict. Prison inmates often slipped their daily dosage into her hand in exchange for a private session of dry intimacy. While she had fewer tattoos than almost any other prisoner, her tattoos were more elaborate - not the self-inflicted work of an amateur but epic works of art. Fiona, the name of a girlfriend she used to love, was tattooed above her left breast. And Brianna, the name of a nurse who had been friendly to her when she was hospitalized under suicide watch, was tattooed on her wrist.

"Okay, beauty. Put the comb away," Imogen said to Drew, dressed now and ready to go.

Having discarded his school's presidential uniform, Drew wore black slacks and a polo. They stood and watched each other: scrubbed, combed, as tidy as two siblings setting off for a picnic. But things were more complicated than it would let be.

"Drew- I can't-," Imogen said shakily, breaking into suffucation. Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned her body in haste so he couldn't see her image faultering.

"No, you can't do this now," Drew exclaimed, leaving the door and rushing to her side. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and soothed her with hushed whispers.

"You must hate me," Imogen wailed between sobs. "I killed your goddamn brother! I killed Adam. He's dead. You're better off with Bianca."

"I love you, Imogen," Drew said, pulling her face with his hands. "You did a terrible thing, but I love you too much. I try not to think about it. I know Adam is in a better place. So, please, just pull yourself together. You have to look good for court. You can't lose this case."

Imogen nodded and wiped a river from her cheek. "I'll do it for you," she declared.

She watched his lengthy body as he quietly exited the room. Then, with a mouthful of air, she tilted her head upwards and entered the hall. Her lawyer and his legal team were waiting for her. He caught a glimpse of her appearance, nodded with content, and took her into the courtroom, where the one of the biggest trials of the decade would take place.

To be continued.


	4. Under Power She Flourishes

Adam opened his eyes; Becky was sleeping on his chest, with her arms wrapped around his neck. They were lying under a patch of exotic watermelons, and birds were chirping for the sun to come up. His eyes burned like red embers as he stared at Becky's perfectly-carved face; she was beautiful, so beautiful, and it almost moved him to tears.

"Wake up, bedhead," he said drowsily, softly nudging her shoulder.

The corners of her lips crinkled. She was tired, so she groaned and dug her face deeper into his chest, making her grip on his neck tighter.

"Becks, come on," he said, trying to be gentle. "I have to meet Jesus today, remember?"

"Uh oh."

"What is it?" he asked, sitting up.

Becky did not reply immediately. She lowered her head so it was pressed against his stomach, and then she traced her finger along his arm. "Well, in Heaven, there's a curphew and a roll call. I wasn't in my house last night, so I guess I'm going to be reported as missing."

Adam took her hand and leaped to his feet. "Let's go clear this up," he said. "It's already ten o'clock."

She smiled and followed his lead as they ran through the Garden. Once they reached the cliff, they jumped together and flew to the Kingdom.

As they flew, they held hands, and the wind ruffled their clothes, making ripples through the cloth. They laughed as they made twists and dives, which tickled their stomachs. Flying with Becky had been one of the best things Adam had experienced in his existense, and as he watched her tear through clouds, he couldn't be more happy.

"Holy shit," Adam said, stopping suddenly and looking at the ground. He made a swift nosedive and landed on a patch of grass, only a few feet away from the entrance to the Kingdom. Becky followed him down.

"We could have flown over the wall, you know?" she said humorously, standing next to him and taking a grip on his elbow.

"No," he said with a blank expression on his face. "That's not it. I just- I just realized something bad." His gaze casted down and he fumbled with his hands.

Becky watched him and waited patiently for him to speak. Finally, he said,"What if we see Campbell Saunders?"

The night before the shooting:

Luke Baker drove his pickup, listening to the hum of its desperate engine as the wheels rolled across uneven pavement. To the right of him, Imogen sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, bored and heavy with content. They skirted the northern rim of the city. No one was abroad at this time of the night, and nothing was open except a string of desolately empty gas stations. Luke turned into one - Conoco 99. A young homless boy appeared, and asked,"Need some gas?" Luke nodded, and Imogen, getting out of the car, went inside the station,  
where she locked herself in the women's room. Her legs pained her, as they often did; they hurt as though her old accident had happened five minutes before. She shook three aspirins out of a bottle, chewed them slowly (for she liked the taste), and then drank water from the basin tap. She sat down on the toilet, stretched out her legs and rubbed them, massaging the almost unbendable knees. Luke had said they were almost there - "only seven miles more." She unzipped a pocket of her windbreaker and brought out a paper sack; inside it were the recently purchased rubber gloves. They were glue-covered, sticky and thin, and as she inched them on, one tore - not a dangerous tear, just a split between the fingers, but it seemed to her an omen.

"Are you listening to me?" the judge asked, snapping her fingers and glaring at Imogen.

Imogen blinked and tried not to seem disrespectful. She was sitting in court, in the middle of her trial, but she could only think about the day she shot Becky and Adam. _Stupid Becky_, she thought. _Becky ruined the whole plan._

Imogen knew it was only a short amount of time before Luke turned against her and gave information to the cops. She bit her lip and wondered what he was thinking about. He was sitting in the courtroom somewhere, but she couldn't dare look behind herself at the room of angry jurors. She had to sit forward and pretend she cared. _If only they knew_, she thought..._ If only they knew how much deeper this trial can go._

Maycomb is a subdivision in Heaven. It is twelve miles east of the mountains, a circumstance that causes some grumbling, for it means that at seven in the morning, and in winter at eight or after, the sky is still dark and the stars, if any, are still shining. But by nine, when Becky and Adam arrived at their newly registered house - during which they noticed nothing amiss - the sun had risen, delivering another day of pheasant-season perfection. As they left the property and ran along the lane, they waved at an incoming family, and a girl waved back. She was a small, thin girl, and her name was Razzie - Razzie Phillipson. She was the only child of the family. The father, George Phillipson, was a middle-aged sugar farmer. Mr. Phillipson was not a churchgoer himself, nor was his wife, but he managed to get his family into heaven. The arrangement saved him "a long, agonizing passion of fire."

"Home sweet home," Adam said, opening the front door. The living room was comfortable, and warm air lifted upward from the floor.

"I love it!" Becky squealed, running straight for the kitchen, and then every other room.

Adam flopped on the couch and rested his head. It had been a long day; he had met Jesus, seen some of his favorite celebrities, and watched Greek gladiators battle it out in the Colosseum. Just as he was about to check out the master bedroom and test his man-parts on Becky, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," he hollered across the house.

He hopped to his feet and walked to the door. Unsure of who would be on the other end, he opened it slowly. He was not prepared for the person who stood before him.

**Can't wait for the next chapter! There's going to be a big twist and lots of conflict. Stay tuned. (:**


	5. What Really Happened

I am lying on cool, thin sheets. The air is strong with the scent of chemicals. I move my fingers - they move strangely. I flick my eyes open and take a deep breath.

"She's awake!" a nurse yells. She is leaning against the doorway, watching me with curiosity. She moves out of the way for the doctors to rush inside.

I manage to weakly mumble, "What's going on?", but before I can receive an answer, the doctors are all over me, sticking needles into my arms and calling out orders. One of the doctors is a girl, and she is leaning down beside me, smiling and looking deep into my eyes. Her soft, assuring hand falls onto mine. My fingers tingle with curiosity. I look down at them and notice my wrists are covered with thick bandages.

"Ma'am, what's happening?" I ask drowsily. The doctors are beginning to calm down now.

"We will find out when you're ready to talk," she says patiently, patting my palm. She gets up and leaves the room; after around fifteen minutes, the doctors leave.

I sigh and look to my side. On the other side of the room, a thin boy is lying on a cot. He has thick bandages around his wrists, and that's when I realize what I have done. I have tried to kill myself, and that's why my wrists are covered up. That's why. I smile weakly at the boy, hoping he is feeling better, because I know that I definitely am feeling better.

He turns his head and smiles back at me. He is Adam. His eyes sparkle.

I am finally free.


End file.
